


Babe?

by mvtthewmurdvck



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvtthewmurdvck/pseuds/mvtthewmurdvck
Summary: You call Dex babe for the first time.





	Babe?

You first call him babe by accident. 

It slipped out as you asked him to pass the peppers, scratching its way over the moment, etching pink lines into it, making it hard to ignore. It hits Dex’s ears in an odd way, and he rotated his head as he opened his fridge door. He tried to brush it off, but it sticks to him, clings to his ears, finding himself unable to rid himself of it. It was a blemish, tainting a rather nice— _almost_ perfect—moment where you were cooking in only his shirt and your underwear.

You don’t apologise, but you do pretend it never happened. Dex is quite happy with that, although he found himself unable to stop thinking about it for quite a while. 

When it happens again, he grits his jaw. You attempt to correct yourself immediately, but Dex has already heard it, and it’s already scraped over him like nails on a chalkboard. He doesn’t understand pet names, not when he already has a nickname. He doesn’t need another one, which is what he  _tries_  to tell you as you nod understandably, looking visibly taken back by his annoyance. You say you’ll try not to do it again, that it just slipped out, and Dex  _tries_  to reign in his irritation, soothing you with a hug and a kiss to your temple. 

But, when he walked you to work the following day, he is unable to un- _hear_ the number of times other people use it—as though it is perfectly normal, almost so common that before now he has never heard it. Dex hears all sorts:  _baby, sweetie, honey, darling_ , and they all sounded far louder than anything else. Including the cars and the busy New York morning. 

Dex doesn’t mean to be distant when he kissed you goodbye, and he doesn’t notice you staring at him in confusion as he tried to understand the need for such names as he walks away. He barely feels your eyes on him, an uncommon occurrence at best.

He finds himself unable to  _stop_  thinking about them. Dex doesn’t know if you want to use them or if it’s simply an accident that continues to recur. Or worst, a comfort thing, something that shows that you are comfortable with him. He pays very little attention to what he needs to get done, leaning back in his chair as the screensaver comes on his PC; his eyes drifting off from his workspace as he replays your shocked face from last night, as though his reaction had horrified you. 

It probably  _had_.

Dex was  _never_  very good at hiding his feelings—especially the ones he struggled to cage.

Weeks went by, and he never mentioned it, and neither did  _you_. You were in a coffee shop, distracted by the tiny holiday chocolates looking all content and cheery. It was then that an idea sprouted his mind. Coyly smirking, Dex pulled out his wallet, ordering his drink first before calling to you.

“ _Babe_?”

“Hmm?” you said, turning to look at him before your eyes widened in shock. It registered immediately, and he watched, feigning candour, as you tried to process what he had said.

Dex licked his lips cockily. “Still want a latte?”

Your lips had parted, remaining that way as you nodded in shock. He turned back to the cashier, shrugging the weird feeling from his shoulders as he offered you a reassuring smile. He felt your eyes watch him, but you never said anything, just moved closer to him as you weaved your arm in his. 

It had felt odd to call it to you, but he did enjoy how close you got to him after, almost as though the two of you had shared something  _extra_  special. 

Dex waited a little while before slipping it in again, changing up the variant after listening to Nadeem on the phone to his wife. He had headed to yours, with his bag and some groceries as he knocked on the door, you open it almost too quickly as you greeted him.

“Hey,” you grinned, taking the bag as you pressed your lips to his.

Dex closed the door behind him, looking over at you as you unpacked the brown bag. “Want a hand,  _sweetie_?”

It came out far too forced, and your eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What are you up too,  _Poindexter_?”

He raised his hands innocently, placing his keys down in the key pot you got for him. “Nothing…  _darling_.”

Shaking your head, you continued unpacking the bag. “Must have had a good day if you’re  _teasing_  me.”

Leaning against the counter, your eyes avoiding his. “I’m not teasing you,  _baby_.”

You didn’t bite, offering your shower to him as you began chopping up the vegetables for dinner. Dex let the water fall down over him, running his fingers through his hair, revisiting the soft glints in your eyes when he said the names—the pet names, the ones he wasn’t sure if he liked or disliked anymore.

He did rather enjoy the way you reacted to them. He wondered if you would enjoy them whispered to you as he took you from behind, pulling your hair back a little as he moaned them in your ear. 

Dex suspected you would. 

It took all of his self-control to resist using them again until you invited him to a dinner with a colleague and their husband. He hadn’t wanted to go, which he expressed on several occasions, but you didn’t bend—you didn’t uninvite him.

He had even attempted to pull out the big guns—guilt—which you usually succumbed too, but you didn’t. “I’m an excellent  _marksman_ , Y/N. I could throw a knife across the room and angle it so well it would come back and kill me.”

You don’t bite as you stand to put your shoe on. “All to get out of a meal, Dex? Seems a lot of effort and a lot of blood. You’d be ruining a very nice establishment just because you don’t fancy being social.” 

Dex snorted. “I just don’t want to share you tonight.” 

“Cute, but still no. I am going regardless, so you can either come and make sure everyone knows I’m yours—which I know is your favourite game—or you can stay here and mope,” you add with a wicked wink, adjusting his tie before turning your back to him.

He places his hand on the zip, slowly sliding it up, kissing your skin under your hair. “I love how my sadistic humour doesn’t frighten you.”

“I probably  _should_  be more worried,” you say as you turn to face him, a hand on his chest. “But, I guess I’m stupidly and ridiculous in love with you  _ba_ –Dex.”

He tilted his head, but you have already pulled from him. It didn’t jar him, even if you had corrected yourself in time. Even the thought of you using it didn’t bother him. It should bother him, and he isn’t sure why it doesn’t any more. Had he gotten used to it? Had it become apart of who you were? 

It couldn’t have. It  _shouldn’t_  have, not when it was against the norm; not when he had resented it so much. 

“You coming?” you ask from the doorway, a beckoning smile as he nodded. 

Dex had an idea.

He plans it all the way to the place, occasionally breaking from his thoughts to answer a question or make conversation, but as soon as he can, he moved back to it. He hides his  _fiendish_  excitement behind a smile you’ve dubbed ‘ _yours’_ , mainly because anyone you have met informs you  _he never smiles_. 

Dex placed his hand on the bottom of your back, the candles flickering as the two of you walked down to your table. He wanted to compliment you, tell you how beautiful you look, but he clears his throat instead, finding himself silent as he is introduced to your colleague. He does pull out your chair, a dubious look in your eye and Dex took note as the husband calls your friend, ‘ _honey_ ’.

He finds it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, which is what he had hoped. Especially for his plan to work.

You begin talking animatedly, your eyes barely looking at the menu, but Dex had already scanned it—he had  _already_  looked over it earlier, needing a clear plan, having already made his choice over what he would eat.

“Babe?” He mentioned, stealing your attention entirely as he points to the menu, a wicked grin on his face. “They do  _Pad Thai_?”

Looking down, you brushed your hair behind your ear, but he’s already seen the blush creep over your cheeks. You can’t hide it, not that you’re ever successful even when you do.

“You’re so right,  _babe_ ,” you say back, a challenging glint in your eye.

Dex licked his lips. He accepts the challenge, but he suspected you already knew he would. His plan had been to catch you off guard, make you flummoxed. It isn’t working, and Dex feels his chest fill with warmth at the realisation he’s in love with an opponent that is fairly matched. 

“Do you think it will be as nice as that little place we went too?”

You shrug, the corner of your lips wanting to tug into a smirk. “Maybe, why?”

“Just thinking of you,  _baby_.”

Your eyes brighten for a second, only noticeable by him. 

“I might have the steak,” Dex continued, looking down at the menu in his hands. “What was that sauce I liked,  _sweetie_? The one you got me to try?”

He knows you wanted to laugh. He can tell because you’re biting the inside of your mouth. Dex also knows that you think he’s taunting you, but he’s not. Not anymore anyway. 

Your colleague though, they think nothing of it, probably finding the entire exchange romantic and adorable. They’re under the illusion this is normal, and maybe, without Dex realising, it has. Maybe he’s a man who uses pet names and finds himself unable to stop thinking about you when he’s at work—when he should be thinking about his routine. 

“Stop being cruel,” you whispered in his direction, a frown brushing over your forehead.

Dex dropped his hand from his menu, brushing it over your thigh as you snapped your eyes up to his. “Maybe I just like using them,  _hmm_?”

You arch your brow, in that mocking way you do, and the frown vanished—as though it was never there.

He moved closer, brushing his nose against your ear. “Babe.”

You give him a mild shake of your head, your cheeks a full on rose colour now. “You’re the devil sometimes,  _baby_.”  You make sure baby is layered on thick, a purposeful drag on the  _‘y’_.

Dex doesn’t move, breathing softly against your skin, wondering how close he can push the new gift—the one that had gotten your cheeks pink and you flustered. “Maybe you can call me that later, baby?”

“I can.” He watches as your lips roll together. “And babe?” you challenge. 

He meets your eyes, watching them darken from the soft colour they usually are. 

“I’m not wearing anything under this dress. Just so you know.”

Dex pulls his hand back, watching you coyly as you turned back to the people with you, talking as though you hadn’t said a thing. His mind thinking of you, sitting bare with only the dress keeping you from being skin-to-skin.

You had won. 

You had won the  _fucking_  night. 

“ _Fuck_. I love you, baby,” he muttered under his breath with a confident smirk, not hating being out one bit anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an archived piece originally posted on the tumblr, [mvtthewmurdvck](https://mvtthewmurdvck.tumblr.com/).


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